blood / water — antigone v eyvindr, round two
Oct 24, 2023 14:17:04 GMT -5
Post by fox on Oct 24, 2023 14:17:04 GMT -5
❦
i touch the floor as i enter, drag out algiz from the blood speckled in the cage.
the light tilts at the wall of our names.
i feel like i spent being young in waiting, waited to grow up, waited for my father to return. rabbits slung over his shoulder, wet with blood. the limp body of a deer, pulled by its antlers, bones rattling loose on the dirt.
hunters laid their bows and blades at the altar. the vǫlur carved them with runes, consecrated by flame. the smell of mugwort was bitter and green, washed over the taste of wine and animal fear, washed over howling and prayer. i remember, light-headed and stupid, i wept when the first cut was made.
i look from her name on the board, down to her face, hazy and pale. Antigone,
have you unlearned that feeling. for all the things i've hurt? we are happy and well-fed. the eagle beats at my lungs, a pair of wings drawing breath, sharp-beaked in the rafters. i stare at the passing shadow.
my head hurts.
to be holy means to be emptied first.
yes.
don't leave us hungry.
Vin,
i touch my chest.
Vin.
it flutters like a pulse. room dark, cage lit. i look for my name, hung like a sun.
the fox is silent. his fur curls like flames of fire in the metal coolness. my fingers are stained.
she and i face each other.
there is no other way that this story can go. we are half alive, half mythic in the light. i am here, because i cannot change it. i cannot change anything.
hunt her slow.
i hold the leather in my hands, curled like a collar.
"no. let's make it quick."
i touch the floor as i enter, drag out algiz from the blood speckled in the cage.
the light tilts at the wall of our names.
i feel like i spent being young in waiting, waited to grow up, waited for my father to return. rabbits slung over his shoulder, wet with blood. the limp body of a deer, pulled by its antlers, bones rattling loose on the dirt.
hunters laid their bows and blades at the altar. the vǫlur carved them with runes, consecrated by flame. the smell of mugwort was bitter and green, washed over the taste of wine and animal fear, washed over howling and prayer. i remember, light-headed and stupid, i wept when the first cut was made.
i look from her name on the board, down to her face, hazy and pale. Antigone,
have you unlearned that feeling. for all the things i've hurt? we are happy and well-fed. the eagle beats at my lungs, a pair of wings drawing breath, sharp-beaked in the rafters. i stare at the passing shadow.
my head hurts.
to be holy means to be emptied first.
yes.
don't leave us hungry.
Vin,
i touch my chest.
Vin.
it flutters like a pulse. room dark, cage lit. i look for my name, hung like a sun.
the fox is silent. his fur curls like flames of fire in the metal coolness. my fingers are stained.
she and i face each other.
there is no other way that this story can go. we are half alive, half mythic in the light. i am here, because i cannot change it. i cannot change anything.
hunt her slow.
i hold the leather in my hands, curled like a collar.
"no. let's make it quick."
vin attacks tigs, whip
wJFRPuncxvwhip
6047 -- Welt on Left Calf -- 2.0 damage
